


The Beginning of the End

by ohgeelato



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, So much angst, Steve can be a bit of an idiot, but then so can Tony, what happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:32:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohgeelato/pseuds/ohgeelato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things don't work out. Sometimes they fall apart. Sometimes there's no happy ending.</p>
<p>So this isn't a love story. It's definitely not a fairytale. It's just reality, and reality? It fucking hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



 

This isn't a love story. This doesn't have a happy ending. This is going to dispel any notions you have that life is a fairytale.

This is a true story. This is real life. Above all, this is a warning.

Most stories start at the beginning. My story, however, starts at the end.

**{***}**

Silence. The first droplets of rain on my skin. The crowd scatters as it starts to rain heavily. It’s just you and me now. Just you and me. Like old times.

Except it’s not the same. I’m not the same. You’re not the same. And there lies our problem.

My vision starts to blur. I can’t tell if it’s from the rain or from my tears. Your stoic figure, unmoving. You stare back with a look that revealed everything and nothing. Your hand is on my arm, the other on the back of my head. Your hands are the only source of heat in the cold rain. I cling to the heat, unwilling to let go, unwilling to let this – whatever this is – end.

You put your forehead to mine, and you close your eyes. It should feel like it used to, but it doesn’t. This just feels foreign. I want to push you away, but I want to hold on forever.

Then you drop your arms, you step back and I let you. The heat from your hands fades away fast. My fingers start to numb. I can’t feel anything anymore.

How I wish that was true of my heart.

Who is this person standing in front of me? Who is this staring at me, with eyes that has lost their sparkle, eyes that were once as blue as the clear sky, now turned the blue of a roiling thunderstorm?

Who is this man I no longer recognize?

What has he done with _my_ Steve?

All these questions race through my head. But it doesn't matter. There is nothing I can do or say to make everything alright, to make them go back to the way it used to. Time has drifted us apart. Time has changed us. Time has taken you away from me.

Just like I know it would but had hoped – _hoped against all hopes, hoped fervently, for the first time in my life_ – would never come true. I should have known better. Hope is just an empty promise. A broken promise.

You take one last look at me, with those eyes I don't recognize.

Then you turn your back on me.

And.

You.

Walk.

Away.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written angst in a while, and I apologize for the lack of a fully-formed plot, but this was just a scene that's been floating around in my head. Also, this is for PiWithApple because she's lovely and has been keeping me company at my dreadfully boring job and I wanted to give her something but wow, I just ruined her day with all these angst, didn't I? ...I hope you liked it though!


End file.
